


My Crumbling Shadow (Please Come Back)

by Jackal_Cackle



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games), Red Dead Redemption 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Daemons, Angst, Animal Death, Arthur and Charles are bros after so, Arthur gets to kill him, Arthur still gets Tuberculosis, Bone Breaking, But He Gets Better, Daemon Separation, Emotions, Gun Violence, High Honor Arthur Morgan, I don't know how it happened but implied Charles/Arthur feelings, One Shot, Sort of happy ending??, but heavy liberties taken with it, daemon death, fairly open-ended but with an optimistic note, havent written for rdr2 before, may be ooc, micah dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:28:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25480936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackal_Cackle/pseuds/Jackal_Cackle
Summary: A spin on segments of the final chapter/s where Arthur gets the revenge he deserves and gets to go free, with daemons added and Tuberculosis still being a threat.(Lots of people still die but that includes Micah while Dutch must finally face the consequences of his actions after years of sacrificing people instead.)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	My Crumbling Shadow (Please Come Back)

**Author's Note:**

> This has rattled around my brain quite a bit and honestly, I might just make other fics in the same kind of universe; however, Arthur gets to fix-it and save people with daemons mixed in there. 
> 
> Which reminds me, Daemons are _quite_ different than typical Daemons, I even briefly debated just refering to them as Animals (Short for Soul Animals) but I figured I may as well call it what it is, a heavily-AU-Daemon-AU. So, the no-touching-Daemons-law doesn't exist, for all intents and purposes, daemons in this fic are animals with sentience, the ability to speak, and greater resilience. People can live without their daemon but are often stared at or pitied. There's also a few concepts that I won't reveal in the notes as they are explained in the story and that would take away some of the dazzle.
> 
> (Did I mention that other people can't harm each other's daemons but other daemons can?)
> 
> Anyhow, enjoy!

After Molly’s… execution, Grimshaw turned on him, snapping at him about the rules. Yelling at him, the enforcer, about the goddamned _rules_. Sure showed their loyalty when no one argued about it. He doubted the girls had even absorbed what happened yet. Dutch had walked off, smoking a cigar with a gut-churning nonchalance.

He strode straight to his wagon, ignoring any who tried to catch his attention, he dropped into cot and shut his eyes. He could hear Lorenia hissing at the black swan that had waddled up towards him, the warning was enough and the bird left with a silent brooding. Lorenia radiated smugness but it was tainted with irritation and paranoia.

He woke to her wheezing breaths as he coughed, relieving them both from the itch. Waves of gratitude echoed towards him from her. He again ignored everyone, _especially_ Dutch who called for his attention, leaving camp. Lorenia seated on the back of Mint, his loyal and clever Hungarian Halfbred.

They rode into the heartlands, the green grass and cool, clear air making him sigh as they slowed to a stop in a field. Lorenia climbed off, her black coat rippling as she rolled in the flowers and soil without care. He followed suit, folding his hands on his stomach and staring up at the sky. Mint sniffed and grazed, soon lowering down to his knees and laying on his opposite side. 

“We don’t have much time left, Arthur,” She rasped, the claws on her left paw scarring the ground. He breathed deeply, almost instantly regretting it when the itch came back with a fury. He wheezed and coughed, sitting up with the wracking force of his hacking, until his lungs and throat felt raw and allowed him to lean back against the ground. 

“I… I know.” Her golden eyes glistened at him and she pressed into his side, her head tucking against his neck, ears pressed tightly to her skull. 

“I—“ she stopped, her tail slamming the ground. “I don’t want to lose Us, Arthur. I don’t want to return to the darkness of the Unknown. I want to stay here with our family.” 

He carded a hand through her coat, soothing as Mint placed his head gently on Arthur’s lap. His intelligent eyes glittering. 

“Our family isn’t here anymore, Lorenia. Dutch, he killed Hosea, Lenny, Sean, Kieran… we were fools, Lore. True utter fools. Marston’s locked up, his family is worried. God, we never should have robbed that bank—“ He sat up, anger curdling his face. “If Dutch had _learned_!” 

Arthur’s fists tightened dangerously, his nails digging into his palms. A wretched, low huff left him as he refused to sob, refused to cry. 

"If I'd learned," He whispered.

The trio sat in the grass silently, they stewed in each others' presences until the sun met its apex, when they set off to meet with Sadie, Adimar and John were waiting for rescue.

* * *

“I gave you everything, Dutch—“ Arthur tried to shout but it came out as a hollow, _tired_ croak, fingers ripping into the dirt. Dutch looked shaken, as if he truly realized his most loyal follower—his _son_ was dying. But both were wrong, Arthur thought viciously, _I was just a prized pony running out of_ _tricks._

Lorenia glittered golden, her silhouette blurring as she wailed. She tucked into his side like all those days before. She practically leaked desperation, panic, terror, and it tore at everything he was. 

“I don’t want you to go Arthur—I don’t want you to go!” She pleaded, clutching at his clothing. His heart, impossibly, thundered louder in his chest. “Please, Arthur, don’t let yourself fade. If not me, I want you to Stay. Stay, Arthur!” 

The idea of Staying made something in his stomach wither and curl. To Stay would mean using the last of Lorenia to revive himself, but she would be gone, forever. He’d be stared after like he was a ghost— 

_Please, I’ll always be_ _in your_ _soul_ _. I_ **_promise._** _I am you and you are me. So long as one of us stays, neither of us will be gone.  
_

He stared at her for but a moment longer, memorizing her fur, her eyes, her nose, her ears, her hidden rosettes. Grief choked him like calloused hands as he remembered everything she was, everything she meant, everything she had done for him.

She had fought beside him in that fight with the brute in Valentine. Lorenia had pinned and wrestled the man's hound daemon into the mud. She had rolled her eyes and tripped him as he fled the Valentine sheriff on his and Lenny's drunk night. Lenny and Tennes had been drunk off their asses, Lorenia having long learned to block herself from Arthur's inebriation. She had saved him from being shot after Lenny. Again, his heart shriveled in his chest as the memory whirled before him.

_Arthur watched in horror as Lenny fell, Tennes looking at them and dissolving away right before Arthur’s fingertips. Lorenia lunging forward and knocking Arthur into cover before scurrying to safety across from him.  
_

_“Everyone just **calm down.”** Dutch’s Saluki looked rattled, before abruptly calming. Something **snapped** , Arthur saw more than felt it. _

_Lorenia shrieked, lunging forward with no care in the world and tackling the Saluki. She carved a claw deep in its stomach, snarling and screeching._

_Shouts and screams surrounded Arthur as Dutch crumpled and he lunged forward to yank Lorenia away. She toiled and writhed, fighting Arthur’s grasp._

_She twisted and snapped down— Arthur shouting in pain. She released him as quickly as she’d grabbed on, allowing Arthur to pull himself backwards with his uninjured arm._

_Warm hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled him to a more comfortable position. Waves of anger, sorrow guiltfailureloss._

_A whine sounded from Dutch’s Saluki as it limped to its partner, leaning against him._

_Arthur only stared as Lorenia panted, ears pinned and tail lashing. Her eyes wide and **scared** as she hunched over. He knew as well as he knew himself, that she had lashed out in desperation, in some meager attempt to regain control, in a subconscious attack to make Dutch pay.  
_

_He checked his arm, pangs of pain rippling up it with a vengeance. She hadn’t broken his bone, miraculously, but had ripped away a piece of skin. Charles, warm eyes sorrowful, offered a makeshift bandage, wrapping it carefully as Arthur stared unblinkingly at his companion. Micah, Bill, and, Javier murmured to themselves, Arthur tuned them out. Manuel wandered over, perching himself on Arthur’s knee, Ehawee, perched herself on his thigh, pressing her feathered head to his stomach. Margot didn’t bother to lumber from Bill's side while Helia lingered around her straw-haired master with a scowl and a pitiful fear on her small face.  
_

_Lorenia hadn’t bothered him the rest of the night. She climbed into his lap when he sent forgiveness towards her, she would never blame her for acting on their shared emotions. She was but a product of what rattled through his own mind and body. And maybe, even then, that attack on Dutch satisfied some itch, satisfied something that warned and begged him to run.  
_

_“_ For you,” he whispered almost silently as he allowed himself to _open_. She faded, eyes bright and glistening with love, tears, and devotion, changing into a cloud of gold as it twisted and invaded his lungs. Pain, soul-wrenching pain, worse than being shot by a bullet, worse then having a broken leg, worse than the damned stubborn itch in his ribs and the raw pain in his throat. It roared through his bones and tore the infection to shreds, it sent out a wave of energy, hot-cold to the point of burning him from the inside out. He felt like he was going to fall to pieces, he feared that Lorenia's sacrifice had been for naught.

Then nothing. 

He rose to his knees, to his feet, straightened his spine and walked over to his fallen gun. His eyes staring straight into frozen Dutch and flabbergasted Micah and their stricken daemons.

He grabbed his gun from the dirt, admiring the sterling silver barrel. _Ol’ faithful indeed._

He cocked it and raised it, aiming right at them. His gaze silent and heady. Everything was so much clearer, the haze of _sick_ gone but this, this was different. He could see everything in sharp acuity. Even back in Colter, his sight hadn't been so—

“A-Arthur,” Micah wheedled. “You, you know I was—“ 

His hand moved of its own accord and a bang and then the thump of a body followed by a cut-off scream. Micah grasped at his leg, cursing and growling as Helia squealed and scurried over Micah's shoulder. The pale-coated rodent tried to hiss at Arthur but it was shaky.

Nothing like Her.

“I’m so sorry, son…” Dutch started but Arthur strode forward, glaring down at Micah and stomping down on the man’s bulletwound. A snarl twisted his face as he peered down, his teeth sharper in his mouth. Sharp enough to leave the faint taste of copper on his tongue. Micah's pained scrambling increased but Arthur only eased his weight over the foot on the human rat's leg until he screamed and stopped moving.

"You bastard," Micah gurgled and Arthur dropped the rest of his weight on the frail bone. Arthur was nearly kneeling on the leg, leaving him close enough to Micah's face to see his reflection in his pupils. Though the image is marred by Micah's constant squirming, he can see his own eyes, glowing golden. Already compromised by a bullet, the bone beneath his weight snapped and crumbled, leaving Micah screaming. Then, Arthur's gun fired again, this time through his forehead. It was short and it was bittersweet and yet, it was satisfying. Helia faded away with a shriek.

“Funny way of showing it,” Arthur responded finally, words plain and near toneless. A hollowness had taken over his chest, like his heart had stopped beating. The missing shadow that always sat in sight was gone, forever. Gone because of stupid decisions. Gone because of his own cowardice. Gone because of Dutch. Gone because of the way he chose to lead their life. _No longer._

Arthur aimed his gun at his mentor, his leader, his father. The sound of far off braying of hounds, mens’ shouts and horse hooves coming closer. 

“Down on your knees.” 

Dutch looked Arthur dead in the eye, shaken but growing angry. The glimmer of instability coming to light again. 

“Arthur, I will not—“ 

Arthur cocked the pistol, eyes still boring into him, testing the weight in his hands to check if it’s loaded. 

It was. 

He fingered the trigger lightly. 

“I said…” Arthur’s voice dropped into a growl, it rumbled across his sternum and danced over his collarbones. Dutch's taken aback look told Arthur that he'd felt it too. Good. “ _On your knees._ ” 

Dutch stared at him, shock finally registering on his face. Arthur tilted the gun, impatient anger lighting up his gut, and fired just as the Pinkertons tore out of the trees. Dutch shouted as he crumpled to the ground, blood seeping out of his shoulder; _non fatal,_ something purred. 

Agent Milton and Ross look surprised, eyes large as they wrench their horses to a stop. He can see their daemons looking for his and confusion pulling on them. 

“I gave up everything for you Dutch, including my daemon,” Arthur said quietly, anger snuffing out like a weak candle. “Now it’s time I gave you up for everything.” 

He turned to the Agents, ignoring steel eyes softening into fear and loss. 

“You take him and the Van der Linde gang is no more. Our slate is wiped clean and you won’t hear from us again.” 

“What about Micah Bell?” Ross asked as Milton scowled at the thought of letting them go. 

Arthur only pointed at the body a couple feet away now. 

“Where’s your daemon, Mr. Morgan?” Milton asked next, probably expecting her to lunge out to attack them. 

“I Stayed, she Left.” 

Dead silence rung out as Arthur holstered his gun, flashing golden eyes as he passed the Pinkertons and daemons alike part the way for him. 

“Mr. Morgan,” Ross called, Arthur paused. “Good luck, and goodbye.” 

“Goodbye, Mr. Ross, Mr. Milton.” 

"Arthur!" Dutch tried to call but Arthur just kept moving, not the slightest amount of hesitance or even the slightest attention in his movements.   
  
"Goodbye, Dutch." With each step, he felt the weight leave his shoulders, the burden slipping away into thin air. He was free.

Then he headed off, preparing to gather the scattered remnants of the ones he once called family. He doesn't know why they let him go, but they do, and he doesn't see nor hear from them again.

* * *

Charles found him first. 

Arthur was sat staring at the sunrise with equally golden eyes. The yellow was ever-so-slowly bleeding back to his blue as he calmed. His journal lay open in his lap, a page opened to show a drawing of a unimpressed Lorenia laying atop a warm rock. Wet spots dappled the page here and there. 

Charles opened his mouth before a sorrowful thrum came from Ehawee, the large owl flying to land besides Arthur's leg. 

Mint wasn’t here and nor was Lorenia— 

“Oh, Arthur,” Charles murmured, coming to the man’s side and kneeling. Arthur looked at him blankly, eyes revealing slits. “Come on, lets get you somewhere comfier, okay?” 

Arthur just followed along with the man, mounting Taima who bore the weight without complaint. Charles didn’t say anything as he felt Arthur lean forward, pressing his forehead to the man's back. 

“Charles,” He rasped, voice wretched but sounding clearer than it had in months. 

“Just rest, Arthur,” He said soothingly and the man fell silent. "Just rest. You'll be alright."

Ehawee let out a quiet hoot from where she stood atop Charles' shoulder. Her head rotated backwards in that freakish owl way.

Arthur couldn't help but smile, perhaps it was a little jealous, a little cold, a little sad, a little lonely, but it was a smile nonetheless. He lifted a bone-weary hand and carded his fingers through her head feathers in silent gratitude.  
  
His shadow was gone from sight but not from soul, instead She was sheltered away in the haven of his ribs and behind the shuttering of his eyes. Never to be damaged by the world again.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Its a bit short and it was definitely something outside of my comfort zone but I desperately wanted to get it out there.  
> I also wanted to plop some links down here to give ideas of how each daemon looks and their species.
> 
> [Lorenia - Melanistic Jaguar](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/7/72/Black_jaguar.jpg/792px-Black_jaguar.jpg)  
> [Ehawee - Great Horned Owl](https://nurturenaturecenter.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/08/Great-Horned-Owls.jpg) (Charles')  
> [Adelheid - Saluki](https://www.askideas.com/media/83/Beautiful-White-Saluki-Dog.jpg) (Dutch's)  
> [Helia - White-Tailed Mongoose](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/6f/White-tailed_mongoose_%28Ichneumia_albicauda%29%2C_crop.jpg) (Micah's)  
> [Manuel - California Scrub-Jay](https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/assets/photo/70582301-480px.jpg) (Javier's)  
> [Paxon - Black Swan](https://www.australiangeographic.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/Black_Swan_in_Australia.jpg) (Grimshaw's)  
> [Elizabetha - Red Fox](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/creatures-of-the-world/images/7/7c/Red-Fox.jpg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/340?cb=20160406133317)(Molly's)  
> [Margot - Blue-tick Coonhound](https://gfp-2a3tnpzj.stackpathdns.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/Bluetick-Coonhound-1-1600x700.jpg) (Bill's)  
> [Tennes - Black and White Ruffed Lemur](https://zooatlanta.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/blackandwhiteruffedlemur_ZA_4722-b.jpg) (Lenny's)  
> [Adimar - Timber Wolf](https://images.fineartamerica.com/images-medium-large-5/3-gray-wolf-or-timber-wolf-thomas-and-pat-leeson.jpg) (John's)  
> (If you're curious,,)  
> [Keen - Viszla Dog](https://vetstreet-brightspot.s3.amazonaws.com/26/9a18c0a80911e0a0d50050568d634f/file/Vizsla-5-645mk062911.jpg) (Ross')  
> [Knight - Cremello Thoroughbred](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/proxy/sfSBpiyqUVX3-Fl145kYexyjfWcGCQY9pulA4wwU95aCMgaEhdp6co0gYpVb5IQC9i_aN6T2oZn8_JHqLL4Q4O5AYe4jA6r262lXxJPb7q2pdioc4DU0lR7o9E14QWcQjN3W) (Milton's)  
>  _I know what you're thinking, "Whaaaa, Milton has a HORSE as a daemon??" Yes, yes he does. Now how does this work? Well, in this universe, people cannot harm each other's daemons, its simply not possible. However, other daemons can hurt other daemons, so really, Milton usually has an immortal horse when going toe to toe with outlaws. Also, bonus points for basically making Milton a white knight ;)._
> 
> You also have no idea how hard it was to not give Dutch a bald eagle, it would be the height of _irony_. However, I felt that Dutch's pompous, 'noble' nature was better amplified by a deceptively powerful Saluki. It makes more sense that he was able to swindle people into his cons and following him with such a graceful and honest creature.
> 
> Anyways, I really loved writing this and it has stoked the embers of my muse back to life. The ending is fairly vague and bittersweet but with just enough hope for a better tomorrow and all that. Poor Arthur bb, I actually ended up typing the events that would follow this into the end notes until I realized 1) I'd run out of characters and 2) I could easily make it into a second fic; so if the interest's there, I'll probably do it. (Though I'll probably do it anyways.)
> 
> For today, however, I bid you goodbye.


End file.
